


A Troublesome Vessel

by supernatural9917



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Crack, Dean has a crush on Misha Collins, M/M, Misha plays a doctor on Dr Sexy MD, More like The French Mistake Misha, Not the real Misha, Utter utter crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernatural9917/pseuds/supernatural9917
Summary: Based on the prompt: 'In a world where Dean has a crush on actor Misha Collins and buys his magazines just to jerk off,' accompanied bythisTumblr post.





	A Troublesome Vessel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MeriHany](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeriHany/gifts).



> Please note: I haven't labelled this RPF because it's not the real Misha Collins, but a particularly silly French Mistake version of Misha Collins who isn't married and lives in the Supernatural universe. I repeat, this is in no way RPF!
> 
> Many thanks to Meri for the inspiration!

Digging himself out of his own grave had to be one of the weirdest things Dean Winchester had ever done, and considering his life, that was saying something. Walking in the hot sun with grave dirt still in his mouth until he'd found this closed gas station was no picnic either, but at least it _was_ closed; that meant he could just break in and grab whatever he needed, since whatever had pulled him out of Hell hadn't bothered to resurrect him with a wallet full of cash and fake credit cards. His first stop was the drinks fridge, where he chugged enough water to quench the immediate thirst. The newspaper told him he'd been in Hell for four months, and a look in the mirror confirmed that he had been brought back good as new- no gouges or teeth marks from having been a hell hound's chew toy. All his old scars were gone, and aside from his anti-possession tattoo still being in place, he looked as healthy and whole as if he'd never hunted in his life.

But there was one new scar.

He rolled up the sleeve on his left arm to find a raised red handprint on his shoulder.

OK, that was creepy, but there was no time to think too deeply about that now. He had to grab some supplies and try to get in touch with Sam and Bobby. Dean grabbed some protein bars and more water, but was diverted on his way to grab some chips by the magazine rack. Might as well have some reading material for the trip to Sioux Falls, right? He was about to pick up the copy of Busty Asian Beauties when another cover caught his eye.

Holy shit. Misha Fuckin' Collins, who played serious but sexy Russian Dr Krushnic on Dr Sexy MD, on the cover of some men's style magazine. Forget the Asian beauties, this would provide all the fap material he'd require for a while. He briefly considered retiring to the bathroom to get started on that, but decided against it. There was no telling when he might get interrupted by someone coming to open the gas station, and he wanted to take his time over this. A peek at some of the photos inside showed that one of them had Misha in an open shirt, and another with no shirt at all, and yeah, he didn't want his first jerking session after Hell to be in some crappy gas station toilet stall.

He stuffed the magazine in the bag with everything else and made his way to the register. As he was pocketing the cash, the TV came on to a static-filled station. When he switched that off, a radio took its place, and while he was salting the windows a loud, high-pitched noise filled the building, shattering the windows and sending him diving for cover. It stopped just as suddenly as it had begun, and he made a run for the phone booth outside.

Of course Bobby hadn't believed him; he wouldn't have believed it either. He'd have to go in person and prove to Bobby that he was really himself. Hopefully Sam would be there too, and Dean could yell at him for making whatever deal he'd made to get Dean out. He knew what it was like downstairs now, and he'd be damned (again) if he was going to let Sammy go through that.

**********

Being reunited with Bobby and Sam was great, but finding out that neither of them had gotten him out was pretty damn disturbing. It got worse when whatever it was- this Castiel, as it called itself- burned out that poor woman's eyes. It was all too much.

Deciding he'd finally earned himself some relaxation time, Dean took advantage of Sam going for a run to spend some quality time with his Misha Collins magazine. Man, that dude was so hot. He flipped between the pictures, rubbing himself slowly at first and then building up speed as he pictured that hot body against his own. Considering the strain that had been building since he'd found the magazine, it wasn't too surprising that he didn't last long. He cleaned himself up and put the magazine back in his duffel to serve as spank material another day.

When Sam came back, they went to a diner for lunch, where they were promptly accosted by several demons wanting to know why and how Dean was out. But for all their threats, they didn't harm so much as a hair on Dean's head. Even the demons were running scared of whatever this bad mofo was, and that was never a good sign.

Later that night, he was awoken by the same acoustic attack as at the gas station. The mirror on the ceiling came crashing down over his head, covering him in tiny cuts. Thank goodness for Bobby, who came running in and pulled Dean out of the carnage.

Sam wasn't in the room, so once he and Bobby were on the road, Dean called him to find out where he was. Getting a burger didn't sound like Sam, but whatever; it was best if he wasn't involved in this, he'd just try to stop them if he knew.

The barn was covered in every sigil they could find, and they had holy water, shotguns full of salt rounds, silver bullets and knives, and of course, the demon knife. Bobby performed the summoning ritual, but so far nothing had-

At first it just seemed like the wind was picking up, but then the roof started blowing off and lightbulbs exploded. The barn doors blew open, and in stalked-

'Holy shit, it's Misha Collins!' Dean shouted, pushing down Bobby's shotgun before he could fire it.

'Who?' Bobby yelled back.

'Misha Collins! He plays Dr Krushnic on Dr Sexy MD!'

Bobby gave him a funny look. 'You mean that guy you're always fappin' to on Thursday nights?'

Dean blushed. 'Bobby! Shut up, don't embarrass me in front of Misha!' he hissed.

Misha continued walking slowly towards them, lightbulbs bursting in his wake, until he stood directly in front of Dean.

'Um, hi,' Dean said nervously, giving an awkward little wave. 'I'm a really big fan.'

Misha tilted his head and squinted as if confused, then looked down at himself before turning to Bobby and touching his forehead with two fingers. Bobby slumped to the ground unconscious.

'Hey! What did you do?' Dean cried out, rushing to Bobby's side.

'Your friend is alive. We need to talk alone, Dean.'

Satisfied that Bobby was breathing, Dean allowed himself a shy grin. 'You know who I am? Oh my god, did you get my fan letter? I heard that you liked to read them, but I never thought-'

'Dean, I am not Misha Collins. I am Castiel. I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.'

'Wait, what? _You're_ Castiel?'

'Yes.'

'So is Misha Collins just a stage name, or-'

'I am an angel of the lord.' Thunder cracked, and a flash of lightning revealed the dark shadows of huge wings stretching from the man's back.

'Wow, I mean, I knew Misha did a lot of charity work, but I didn't know he was a literal angel,' Dean said with awe.

'As I said, I am not Misha, I am Castiel. This is a vessel.'

'Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. Are you saying that you're _wearing_ Misha Collins?'

'I noticed at the gas station and the motel that you liked this man. I thought it would make it easier for us to work together if I had a visage that you could trust.'

'So you just _possessed_ him?'

'I'm not a demon, Dean. Angels can only take vessels who allow them in. Misha Collins is an open-minded man, he was willing to assist me in this matter.'

'Wait, did you say the gas station and the motel? All that noise, was that you?'

'Yes, I was attempting to communicate with you in my true voice.'

'Buddy, next time, lower the volume.'

'That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage and understand my true voice. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong.'

'So, what, you saw me perving over Misha Collins and thought you'd just take his meatsuit to come seduce me or something?'

'I have no intention of seducing you into anything, and I'm not certain what "perving" refers to,' Castiel replied with a frown, using air quotes when he said perving. 'I merely detected warm feelings towards the man in the magazine, and so I sought him out. If this makes you uncomfortable, I can seek out another vessel.'

'No, no! That's OK!' Dean said hastily. 'I mean, he agreed to it and all.' No way was he going to miss his chance to hang out with Misha Collins, even if he wasn't quite Misha Collins right now. 'So, Castiel. You got me out of the pit, huh?' The angel nodded. 'Well, thanks for that. Can I ask why?'

Castiel took two steps forward, right into Dean's personal space. 'Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.' Holy shit, it was like Misha's voice, but half an octave lower, like he'd been gargling rocks and drinking whisky for two days. Dean couldn't help but shudder, closing his eyes and hoping that angels of the lord didn't get offended by human boners. 'Dean,' came the voice again, and Dean opened his eyes to look into the shining blue ones of Misha or Castiel or whoever the hell he was. 'Are you- sexually aroused?' the angel asked incredulously.

'Look man, you can't just walk in here looking like my freakin' sex fantasy and expect me not to get aroused, OK?' Dean said with a touch of hysteria in his voice. 'I mean, seriously, you would just need to put on a Zorro mask and slap me around and it would be all the main contents of my spank bank here.'

'I am not familiar with that type of bank, and I have no wish to use violence. My orders are to assist you with your task. I require a vessel to walk the earth. Is this one agreeable to you or not?' Castiel asked impatiently.

'Yeah, oh yeah, it's agreeable to me,' Dean replied enthusiastically.

'Good. I'll be in touch.' With a fluttering sound, Castiel was gone.

**********

_Los Angeles, two weeks earlier_

'I don't care if you are the head of cerebrovascular neurosurgery or the long-lost Romanov princess,' Dr Krushnic growled in a thick Russian accent. 'I will not approve Mrs Biehl's experimental face transplant!' he slammed his fist down on the table in anger.

'I don't give a damn if you approve it or not!' Dr Wesson shouted back. 'She needs that face transplant, and I _will_ do it!'

'Cut! Great job guys, let's print that.' A PA shouted that it was a wrap on Misha, and he patted his co-star on the shoulder on his way out to his trailer.

Dr Sexy MD was a great gig, but it could be tiring. A nice meditation session would help him unwind from his day, and then he could go home to his chinchillas. He was just settling in to the lotus position when his TV switched on, weird static on the screen. He reached over to turn it off, but even unplugging it didn't stop the hiss coming from it. His clock radio decided to join in, frequency going wildly through stations with no hand to turn the dial. Then a terrible noise made him cover his ears and scream in agony before he began seizing on the floor of his trailer.

Then, there was peace.

He cracked an eye open and heard a voice calling to him. 'Misha Collins. My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the lord, and I need you to help me fulfil God's will.'

Now, this was not the first time Misha had ever heard a voice calling him to a higher purpose. However, this time he hadn't just taken peyote in a sweat lodge at Burning Man, so it was probably a different voice.

'Um, look man, I'm actually a Buddhist, so I'm not sure I'm the right guy for this job,' he replied, not sure exactly where to look.

'You are of an acceptable lineage to act as my vessel. If you accept me, together we will help Dean Winchester to stop the Apocalypse.'

'Whoa man, heavy! The Apocalypse?'

'Yes, the Apocalypse.'

'Who's Dean Winchester?'

'He is the righteous man I have rescued from Hell, who is destined to kill the demon Lillith and prevent Lucifer from walking free.'

'Lucifer? Dude, that's cray-cray!'

'I… don't understand that phrase.'

'You know, like crazy. Hey, wait a second. Dean Winchester. I've heard that name before.' Misha rummaged through the box of fan letters next to his bed. His assistant went through them for him, recycling most of them after sending the obligatory autographed (with a stamp of course, he couldn't risk carpal tunnel from all that signing) photo, but some she passed on to him when she thought he would enjoy the contents. He particularly liked ones where fans sent photos of themselves doing something amusing, or when their letters were particularly interesting. 'Aha!' he shouted, finding the envelope he was looking for. 'Here we go, Dean Winchester. Dear Misha Collins, what's up man? I don't usually do this, but you're pretty awesome and you asked for fans to send you funny pictures of ourselves, so here you go. This is me with my baby, a mint condition 1967 Chevy Impala that my dad gave me. My brother took this picture, he told me to give my best Blue Steel, and I thought it came out kinda funny. Anyway, I really love the show, and I think you're a great actor, and pretty hot too. I don't normally say that to guys, but I know you go both ways, so I hope you don't mind. So thanks for being awesome, keep up the good work! Sincerely, Dean Winchester.'

Misha held up the picture towards the sky, assuming that an angel would most likely be looking from that direction. 'Is this the guy?'

'Yes, that's Dean,' Castiel responded.

'And you want to use my body to help this guy stop Satan end the world?'

'Correct.'

'And what happens to me?'

'You will remain in the vessel as well, but with only limited awareness unless I choose to bring you forward. I can also put you into a deep slumber if you prefer.'

'But I won't die, right?'

'No, as long as the vessel retains structural integrity, you will be alive.'

'Structural integrity? So as long as I don't blow up, I'll be OK?'

'Yes.'

Misha considered his options. He was a young, single, bendy, free-spirited and free-loving dude, and a freakin' _angel_ was offering to take him on some kind of exciting adventure to stop the Apocalypse and save the world with a, quite frankly, pretty hot guy.

'OK dude, let's do it. Wait! Let me change first.' He quickly peeled off his scrubs costume and changed into his nice black suit and blue tie, finishing off the ensemble with his trenchcoat. 'OK, I'm ready. Let's do this crazy thing.' He saw a bright light, felt his hair being whipped around as if by a very small tornado, and then everything went black.

**********

Castiel was really starting to regret his choice of vessel. First Dean kept _staring_ at him, licking his lips as his eyes dipped down to look at Castiel's, and he was pretty sure that Dean was purposely dropping things and asking him to pick them up in order to watch Castiel bend over for some reason. And Dean had absolutely _no_ notion of personal space; sure, Castiel would occasionally fly in a bit closer than he meant to, but not only did Dean never step back, sometimes he would close the distance even further. It was making Castiel feel… flustered, and he didn't like it. But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was Misha Bloody Collins. The guy just would not shut up in there. Castiel's past vessels had chosen to be kept asleep, or if kept conscious, were only able to maintain fleeting awareness under the overwhelming sensations of being inhabited by an angel. Misha, however, had somehow managed to stay fully aware without actually keeping any control over the vessel. He claimed that it was because of his meditation practices and experiences with hallucinogenic chemicals, which allowed him to use his mind in ways most humans couldn't begin to imagine.

Castiel thought he was just a damn hippie, and an annoying one at that. He was constantly talking to Castiel when they weren't busy fighting demons or monsters, and the constant chatter was driving him nuts. He talked about how Castiel should do yoga and eat quinoa. He said that Bobby was so grumpy because his chakras were out of alignment. He even badgered Castiel into asking Dean to swap the Impala for a more environmentally-friendly Prius after an hour long lecture about the future of polar bears. But the worst, the absolute _worst_ thing Misha kept trying to do, was get Castiel to sleep with Dean.

Now, for an angel, Castiel was a pretty big fan of humans. His father had said to love the humans above all other creation, and Castiel had worked hard to do so. Hell, once he'd realised that the angels _wanted_ the Apocalypse to happen, he had been rebelling against the Grand Plan to help Dean stop the world from ending for the sake of humanity. As an individual example of humanity, Dean was a good man, if rough around the edges and occasionally impossible to deal with. He was also aesthetically pleasing, both in his earthbound flesh and his soul, which other angels in the garrison had agreed was 'bright' and 'vibrant' and even 'sexy' when describing it. Castiel was also well aware that biologically it was impossible for a Nephilim to be created from any theoretical coupling they should have, and that his father was utterly indifferent to sexual orientation. But he was an _angel_! He should not be having immoral thoughts about the humans in his charge, and of all people, his own _vessel_ should not be _encouraging_ those thoughts.

 _'Oh, Cas, can you hear him? He's doing it again, in the shower this time. Fuck, come on man, we could just drop in on him there, give him a helping hand, you know what I'm sayin?_ ' Misha said yet again. Yes, Castiel was aware that Dean was masturbating in the shower while thinking of him- again- and it was getting a bit old hearing Misha go on about it. Misha had also somehow figured out how to masturbate inside his own head, which was extremely distracting and very surreal. _'Mm, yeah, he's so hot, Cas. Don't you wanna just get in there and- ugh, yeah! He is such a needy bottom Cas, I can just tell. I bet he likes to get tied up and called a good boy._ '

'I believe he enjoys being slapped by masked vigilantes,' Castiel replied, and immediately kicked himself for participating in this ridiculous conversation.

' _Ooh, Batman kink?_ ' Misha replied.

'Zorro.'

' _Ooh! Which one? Douglas Fairbanks? George Hamilton? No wait, I know- Antonio Banderas!_ ' Misha replied with a Spanish flourish on the final name. ' _He clearly likes dark, mysterious men._ '

'I should never have chosen this vessel,' Castiel grumbled.

' _Hey, when we do eventually get it on with Dean, will that count as a threesome?_ '

'Oh my dad, will you shut up, Misha?' Castiel growled. 'We- I- am not going to get it on with Dean. Angel-human relations are forbidden.'

' _Cas, we're sharing a noodle here, you can't lie to me. I know that it's baby making that's forbidden, and that can't happen here. Come on, it's the end of the world! Time to bury yourself in booze and sex! I mean, when's the last time you had sex?_ ' Castiel didn't reply. ' _You_ have _had sex before. Right? With an angel, at least?_ ' Castiel rubbed the back of his neck nervously. ' _You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?_ '

'Look, I've never had occasion, okay?'

' _OK. That's it man. Give me the wheel, we're flying over there right now._ '

'What? No!'

' _Yes. Look, there are two things I know for certain: One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go._ '

Somehow, Castiel found himself losing control of his vessel as Misha's strong will propelled itself forward. The world began to spin and-

Castiel- or was it Misha? Mishstiel stood in front of Dean as he stepped out of the shower. The latter yelped and dropped the towel in shock. 'Cas? What the hell man?'

'Hello Dean. I, um, thought I heard you call me.'

Dean blushed. 'Oh, sorry man. I wasn’t exactly… I was, uh-'

'You were pleasuring yourself,' Castiel finished for him.

' _It's OK, we like it!_ ' came a higher-pitched voice from what felt like deeper in Castiel's chest.

'Be quiet, Misha,' Castiel hissed.

' _Not if you keep refusing to make a move, Cas!_ ' came the other voice, sounding frustrated.

'Um, what's going on here?' Dean asked, confusion evident.

'The original inhabitant of my vessel is not being very cooperative,' Castiel explained through gritted teeth. 'He is surprisingly strong-willed.'

Dean snorted. 'I could have told you that, Cas. Misha is famous for being a badass.'

' _Thank you Dean, that's very kind of you,_ ' Misha said warmly. _'I really enjoyed your letter by the way, great picture of you on the Impala. I liked the Blue Steel_.'

'Oh, wow, thanks Misha,' Dean replied shyly.

Mishstiel stepped forward and ran his thumb down Dean's jaw. ' _Oh, and I think you're hot too,_ ' he whispered with a flirty wink. ' _And so does Cas._ '

'I do not,' Castiel insisted weakly. 'I'm an angel. We don't feel such things.'

Misha ignored him. ' _Hey Dean, do you think it counts as a threesome if we get it on, or just normal sex since there'd technically only be two bodies?_ '

'You know, I was just asking Sammy about that the other day, but he didn't really want to talk about it for some reason. I don't know, I mean, on one hand, like you said, only two bodies, but on the other hand, three minds, you know?'

' _Yeah, exactly! I mean, for me, sex is such a spiritual experience, I think it would totally count as a threesome. Hey, maybe we could buy a dildo to get that three-dick effect going on._ '

'Yeah, good idea. I know this place in-'

'I AM AN ANGEL OF THE LORD!' Castiel's voice boomed and echoed in the small motel bathroom. 'I will not be having carnal relations of any number or using any genital prosthetics with anyone. My purpose is to help Dean stop Lucifer from escaping his cage and prevent the Apocalypse, not to engage in amorous congress with him!'

'Why not do both?' asked Dean and Misha in unison.

Castiel faltered. 'I- what?'

'In case you haven't noticed, Apocalypse-stopping does have some down time,' Dean explained. 'Sam and I need to eat, sleep, drive to places, all that crap. Plenty of time for a little bow-chick-a-wow-wow now and again.'

' _I agree with Dean,_ ' Misha added. ' _And it's great for stress relief, Cas. Your chi is all out of whack, man. You could do with taking the stick out of your ass and replacing it with something else._ '

'I got somethin' you can use,' Dean added saucily, and Castiel felt his hand go up of its own accord to give Dean a high five.

'I… but… angel… don't…' Castiel stammered until Dean took pity on him and wrapped the towel around his waist before placing both hands on Castiel's shoulders.

'Hey, Cas, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. If you're really not interested, fine. Misha and I will drop it, right Misha?'

' _Yes,_ ' Misha grumbled a bit reluctantly. ' _Enthusiastic consent from all participants is essential._ '

Castiel blushed and suddenly shouted, 'But I do want to, Dean! I would love to have the sex with you!'

'Then what's the problem?' Dean asked gently.

'I'm an angel, Dean. I shouldn't participate in such iniquity.'

'Cas, baby,' Dean said soothingly. 'You're rebelling against heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks.'

Castiel's eyes widened. He had never thought about it that way.

'Dean… would you say that you're a needy bottom?'

Dean chuckled. 'Only one way to find out, Cas…'


End file.
